The pathway through the woods

The pathway through the woods was always mine, A portal to another living plane. Whose entities behove a fertile mind Retain, what seemed important at the time. Floating, disparate from the physical, Imbued with thoughts of an eternal day, While Heaven's blue-print, as it always will, Spiralled from snail shells to the Milky Way. Now zip-wire platforms dominate the trees, And eager families, embark on nursery runs That terminate in mulch filled ramps... Where once I gently strolled-- they laugh and pant and wheeze. But I do not begrudge them of their time, The pathway through the woods was always mine.